Batman: Double Cross Examination A Year One Tale
by Doctor Whoops
Summary: Bullock keeps failing his sergants exam, he owes the mob $1,500 in a tale of double cross and blackmail set in Millers Year One
1. Default Chapter

Double-Cross Examination (A Year One Story) Featuring Harvey Bullock.  
I don't own any characters; I just pay homage to those who do!

With particular acknowledgement to the work of Frank Miller.

Chapter One : "Strikeout Harv."

June 6th am

Patrolman Harvey Bullock, alternatively known to the cops of Gotham City Central Police Department as "Strikeout Harv," on account of the fact that he had taken the Sergeants' Exam three times and failed, casually glanced at the thick manila envelope of results that protruded from his mail slot.

He was aware that his surrounding colleagues were trying and failing badly to look busy as they waited for him to view the results of his fourth attempt. He could sense rather than see the knowing looks passing between his colleagues who fully expected that "Old Harv had flunked again."

Ignoring the curious eyes that were on him, Harvey manoeuvred his portly frame through the squad room to his locker without even so much as a second glance. "Let em Sweat." He thought to himself. Besides he already knew what the results were anyway.

He had passed with flying colours.

Permitting himself a smug grin Harvey opened his locker and began the ritual of exchanging his grubby clothes for the smartly pressed double extra, large patrolman's uniform that hung within. He allowed himself a sigh of satisfaction, he, Harvey "Strikeout" Bullock had finally passed! And it wasn't as a result of hours of diligent study either. Oh no! He had kept to the same routine of poker, movies, and drinking of which the last three times had brought only failure. Nor was his certainty the result of some new gift of clairvoyance.

Bullock knew that he had passed the exam because he had cheated.

But as he had told himself at least a zillion times lately, he had his reasons. Not that Bullock for a moment would ever consider this an excuse. Everybody has reasons, Harvey told himself even some of the nuts in Arkham! Although in the case of those particular looney tunes not even the asylum's best shrinks could fathom out exactly what those reasons were, but they were convinced nevertheless that reason had to have a hand it somewhere, and Harvey Bullock had no time for guilt. This was just the way it had to be, maybe in fancy shiny towns like Metropolis good was good and bad was bad, but this was gritty Gotham grim, down, and dirty, and things got done in Gotham the Gotham way.

On the one end of the spectrum you had half the plain clothes on the take, in the pockets of people like the Falcones, Gothams most prominent representatives of Cosa Nostra. On the other end you had the Lieutenant Gordon's and Harvey Dent's of the world naively trying to set it to rights.

There were only two things you could do in the GCPD as far as Harvey Bullock was concerned, you could either, go with the flow and swim even if you didn't like where it was taking you, or you could try and swim against the tide and if you were lucky it would take you with it anyway, if you were unlucky you would drown. That's just the way it was.

And the current newsflash on Lieutenant Gordon was that he was definitely in the drowning category. Word round the campfire was that last month Detective Flass and his cronies had worked Gordon over good, just enough to keep him out of hospital. Stranger still was the rumour that Gordon had somehow gotten even with Flass, took him out one on one returning the favour. Flass had said something lame about being jumped by a dozen guys, but no one really believed Flass, he was a lousy liar.

But whatever the truth of the matter Lieutenant James Gordon and District Attorney Harvey Dent were do-gooders in Bullocks book, notthat there was anything wrong with that in itself, but his survival instinct told him to steer clear of outcasts. True he didn't like the way things were, but he kept that to himself. He played the game, but he played it his way, in order to do that you sometimes had to get a little creative. Some would say crooked, but people who held that opinion in Harvey's experience, were often people who had never worked the streets, so as far as Bullock was concerned their point was moot.

But by Gotham standards it could be said that Harvey Bullock was as clean a cop as you could find. Contrary to popular rumour he wasn't on the take, and was confident that if ever he were ever to come under the scrutiny of the dreaded internal affairs dept, he would be completely exonerated. They only had to look at the sorry state of his bank account to see that he couldn't possibly be scamming. However the rumour served its purpose, it made him "one of the boys," and kept the likes of Flass and his cronies off his back. So Harvey saw no reason to discourage it.

If anything he probably made it worse on account of his lifestyle and his debts. In the eyes of Internal Affairs, debt was viewed as motive. Harvey's debts were big, and sergeants earned $200 more per check than patrolmen, and Harvey could certainly use the money. He owed on his car, he owed on his credit cards, he was barely able to make the rent, but worst of all he owed a Russian immigrant hooligan named Vasily Kosov $1,500 for a bad bet on a fight.

Kosov was rapidly emerging as a key player in the Odessa Mob, a Russian Mafia organisation that sprung up from the midtown Eastern European settlement known to all Gothamites as Little Odessa. For the moment Harvey had breathing space but he knew well that where Kosov was concerned everything came with a price.

Two Months ago.

When you lose a lot of money to someone like Vasily Kosov it's just a matter of time before you get a visit from his friends, his big tough friends come "a- calling" for the first down payment.

In fact Harvey had expected the call to come a lot sooner. And when it did come it was rather unexpected. Amazingly Kosov had come to Harvey in person shortly after his third try at the exam. There was a diner near Robinson Park on the Upper East Side, where Harvey and his partner always stopped for Coffee and Doughnuts midway through their shift. It was Harvey's turn to buy, so Wilson had waited in the black and white, whilst Bullock went to get their usual.

It was whilst Harvey was waiting for his order that Kosov walked coolly into the diner placing himself behind Harvey's left ear and whispered in his Russian accent:

"Two choices: have your toes blowtorched and an anonymous call to Internal Affairs Unit or meet me on Pier 8 Dixon Docks, midnight tonight."

The Internal Affairs Harvey could handle, crispy toes on the other hand was another matter.

"I'll check my diary," he said as coolly as he could muster, but Kosov was already out the door.

"Did you see that?" Wilson asked when Harvey returned to the car.

"See what?" Asked Harvey as he nonchalantly stirred the six sugars in his coffee.

"Vasily Kosov just walked in behind you!"

"Well," said Harvey knowing Wilson couldn't have seen what went on inside from his angle behind the driver seat, "I didn't notice, guess he must've seen my uniform and ran!"

"He did come out rather quick!" Agreed Wilson helping himself to a jello and cream. "Do I look like I'm putting on weight to you?"

Bullock gave Wilson his most withering look, "Shut up and eat your doughnut!"

"Oh!" Said Wilson absentmindedly, "we got a call from dispatch."

"So what are we doing sitting here? Let's go!"

"It's okay," replied Wilson "it's another one of those Bat things!"

Well that was different, Harvey thought. For the past month or so some nut in a Halloween costume had been running round leaving lowlifes battered, bruised, and tied to roofs, lampposts, and railings, some had even been found in dumpsters. All gift-wrapped for the GCPD with a trademark calling card bearing a bat shaped logo.

There was no hurry whoever they were, and whatever they had done they weren't going anywhere for now, so Harvey settled back with Wilson to try and enjoy his doughnuts, without thinking too much about blowtorches.  
Harvey had been at the pier ten minutes early. At 12:30, Vasily appeared with two tall thugs.

"My cousin Gregor works in city printing office, where Sergeants' exam is printed," Kosov said, "we get you copy, you pass next time. I pay your debts."

"What do you want in return?"

"Your badge, gun, and uniform on Saturday June 12th."

Harvey's eyes bulged. "The King's parade!"

"Good memory Officer Bullock."

The exiled King Khanaquin of Qurac was coming to Gotham City along with a museum exhibition of his fabulous wealth, and many feared an assassination attempt. There was to be a parade in his honour to which heavy security had been detailed. Reluctantly Harvey found himself agreeing. The day before the parade, Kosov told Harvey he was to leave his police gear in an unlocked car at the Moench Row end of Commerce Street, or someone would tell the department about his cheating.

"Well it seems I got no choice," Harvey shrugged, "If there's nothing further gentlemen I've had a busy day."

Kosov waved him off dismissively, and Harvey returned slowly and deliberately to his car. Why would a small time hood from Little Odessa want an exiled king from a Middle Eastern country dead? Harvey had no idea. But deep down he knew that when it was all over Kosov would see him as a loose end.

The murder weapon would be found and traced back to him, there was no way that anyone in the department would ever believe he had accidentally left his equipment untended in an unlocked car. He would be suspended pending a full enquiry; Internal Affairs would be all over him like a rash, and with his gun at the scene of the crime not to mention his uniform and badge, he was heading for a fall, so what use would a sergeant's exam be to him then?

The only thing Harvey had going for him now was time. The hit was a couple of months away; in the meantime he would consider the debt paid. That meant he could hang out with the guys after hours without having to watch his wallet, maybe play a little poker at chutes, or hell even stay in every now and again and rent some Clint Eastwood movies. Bottom line, he was going to live a little, and maybe, just maybe he could come up with a plan and try and turn this whole thing around.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Bat-Spotting  
  
May 15th early morning.  
  
Harvey had only been to the upper floors of the GCPD building once and that was during his induction. He seemed to remember the lift had worked back then. He paused for breath at the foot of the stairs. The place was old and dusty, and in severe need of a coat of paint. A door at the corridors end with still relatively new looking stencilling, caught Harvey's eye. It read "Lieutenant James Gordon" and rather unnecessarily beneath it "GCPD".  
  
Well at least he wouldn't have to ask directions and risk appearing foolish. Besides he reflected the less people who knew about this the better. Reluctantly Bullock hauled himself along and knocked on the door.  
  
"It's open," said a voice within.  
  
Harvey walked in to find Lieutenant Gordon pouring over some files at his desk with a beautiful blonde, his secretary? Since when did Lieutenant's get Secretaries? They both looked at him inquisitively.  
  
"Er Officer Bullock sir, Merkel said you wanted to see me?"  
  
"Oh yes," said Gordon in a tone that revealed he must've forgotten, "please take a seat, Harvey isn't it?"  
  
Bullock mumbled his thanks and sat down, desperately trying to avoid ogling the blonde.  
  
"Oh this is Detective Essen," Gordon said flashing him a look over the rim of his glasses that told Bullock his thoughts were transparent.  
  
Bullock nodded an acknowledgement.  
  
Gordon put down his file and looked straight at Bullock, "you may be aware that the Commissioner has assigned me to the Bat-vigilante case." He reached for his cigarettes.  
  
"Yes sir," Bullock acknowledged.  
  
Gordon offered one to Essen who promptly lit it and handed it back to Gordon. She then began lighting one for herself. Bullock watched this un- self conscious ritual with interest.  
  
"Do you smoke patrolman?" Gordon broke the spell.  
  
"Only cigars thank you," Bullock waved the offer, noting to him self that Gordon wore a wedding band.  
  
"Last week you and Wilson responded to a disturbance on the Upper East Side," Gordon resumed all business, "can you tell me what happened?"  
  
"Well it's like I said in my report, it was all over by the time we arrived."  
  
Gordon nodded to him to go on, Essen appeared not to be taking any interest, but something told Bullock that was not necessarily true.  
  
"Well, we found what appeared to be an interrupted cocaine delivery. There were five mooks, all taken down.and Detective Flass." There was an awkward silence the last thing Harvey wanted or needed was to get embroiled in this.  
  
"I understand he had also been taken down." Gordon prompted.  
  
"Well yeah and I know what your gonna ask Lieutenant, I got a glimpse of the perpetrator, it was dark but I had my flashlight on. There was a noise on the roof and for a moment I caught him in the light."  
  
"Can you describe him?"  
  
Harvey sighed, how could he say this without sounding like a crackhead? "Well it was a man, he was masked, dressed all dark and."  
  
"And what?" Gordon's patience was starting to give.  
  
"He was wearing a cape!" Harvey blurted it out and looked at them both trying to gauge their reaction. Essen had actually froze, her cigarette poised inches from her mouth, Harvey didn't know if she was on the verge of inhaling or exhaling.  
  
A ring of smoke blew from her lips, (so that answered that one).  
  
"And then what happened?" She asked, (well someone had to).  
  
"Well he was holding onto a cable and he kinda swung outta view."  
  
Gordon pushed his glasses back up his nose and took a drag on his neglected cigarette. "What kind of cable?"  
  
"I couldn't honestly say," Harvey responded, relieved that they appeared to be taking him seriously. "I'm no expert but I think he musta used it to get from ground level to the roof, I can't see how he coulda got up there so quick otherwise, Flass say's the perp left seconds before we came into view. And at almost the same time I heard the noise on the roof."  
  
Gordon and Essen exchanged glances. "Could be a grappling hook," Essen suggested. "Like the kind they use in climbing."  
  
"Is there anything else you noticed? You can speak freely Harvey this is off the record." Gordon confirmed.  
  
"Well Lieutenant, in my opinion this freak always goes in prepared, me and Wilson that's my partner, get called to collect a lot of this vigilantes presents, they're usually in restraints, and he leaves his calling card, and some of them have what look like customised shurikens sticking out of their limbs."  
  
"Forensics confirm as much," Gordon affirmed, "no prints, they're untraceable."  
  
"My guess is that he uses the dark and the element of surprise." Bullock continued, "He attacks from roof level, jumps into the midst of a bunch of mooks carrying out a robbery, mugging, drug deal, or whatever and for a second everything stops. And that's when he makes his move." Bullock paused, "I think your dealing with a highly trained psycho carrying an extensive arsenal, and I think he's been planning this for a long time."  
  
"That's a pretty good analysis," Gordon affirmed, "you hoping to be a detective someday Bullock?"  
  
"At the moment I got my hands full with the sergeants exam," Bullock replied modestly. "Maybe I watch too many movies!" He added with a grin.  
  
Essen whispered something to Gordon, who suddenly looked at his watch.  
  
"Were gonna have to cut this short Patrolman," Gordon said stubbing out his half smoked cigarette, "I have a Department briefing in ten."  
  
They all stood up and then as an afterthought Gordon turned to Bullock, "I would like you to sit in if that's okay?"  
  
Harvey couldn't think of an excuse so he reluctantly found himself saying "Okay Lieutenant, no problem."  
  
*****  
  
The room was full of plain-clothes tecs who eyed the overweight patrolman with contempt. None more so than the heavily bandaged Detective Arnold Flass whose eyes bore into him accusingly from above his neck cast. The last thing Harvey wanted was trouble from this quarter but if it were coming he was gonna face it head on. He glared right back at Flass and took his seat at the back deliberately making him self comfortable.  
  
Lieutenant Gordon was standing in front of several posters depicting various eyewitness sketches of the Batman. One was a giant bat, another looked like one of those old time Justice Society heroes Bullock had read about as a child, and the third resembled what he had seen on the roof the other night. In this picture Batman had a belt with pouches. Harvey couldn't say one way or the other if the freak he had seen wore anything like that but it was certainly plausible, clearly he needed somewhere to stash his arsenal, Harvey thought fleetingly.  
  
The plain clothes were all getting a little heated and Gordon was trying to keep order.  
  
"If we can stop being hysterical for a moment gentlemen," this was said as if addressing a kindergarten, "Our vigilante, or Batman, as he's called has apparently committed sevent-eight acts of assault in the past five weeks."  
  
Gordon paused and casually took a gulp from a styro full of what passed for coffee at the GCPD, as Essen looked on admiringly.  
  
"During this time, certain patterns of timing and method have emerged." He continued, "It is clear that he possesses extraordinary physical skill."  
  
"Not he. It."  
  
Gordon looked over in the direction of the sulky interruption. "You've got something to contribute Detective Flass?"  
  
"He's not human. I'm just telling you he's not human."  
  
Well that raised a few laughs; Gordon fished for a cigarette whilst he waited for it to die down.  
  
"Thank you Detective Flass," Gordon slowly coaxed a cigarette from the newly opened packet in his hand. "While the vigilante has been careful to remain unpredictable, choosing the neighbourhoods for his assaults at random, he consistently operates between the hours of midnight and four a.m."  
  
The cigarette was out and he put the packet away without offering round this time. "Anybody got a match?"  
  
Of course it was Essen to the rescue but this time she just lit it while Gordon puffed, and murmured his thanks. Harvey noticed a look pass between them.  
  
"He's working his way from street level crime to its upper echelons," Gordon continued abruptly, "from junkie mugger to pusher to supplier and, along the way," he paused and looked directly at Flass. "To any cops that might be helping the whole process along."  
  
Coolly blowing a ring of smoke Gordon continued, "Now Flass, tell us what you know about Batman." He smiled to himself and added, "Try not to exaggerate."  
  
There were a few sniggers and Flass struggled to turn with his neck cast and see where they came from.  
  
"It's like my report Lieutenant, I received an anonymous tip leading me to an east end cocaine delivery." Flass paused, satisfied that he had everyone's attention he continued."I was in the process of single-handedly apprehending the felons."  
  
He coughed and glared around at what he could see of the room to make sure no one challenged him. Settling his gaze on Harvey Bullock he continued.  
  
"Then I heard giant wings flap. It flew down from the sky."  
  
Unable to control the urge Harvey chuckled to himself as Flass's face began to turn red.  
  
"It's wings were about thirty feet across. It bellowed like.Well I've never heard anything like it." Flass now oblivious to the scornful looks he was receiving had a haunted look that reminded Harvey of the peasants talking about Dracula in those hammy old horror black and whites.  
  
"One of the felons I had not yet disarmed produced a .357 magnum," Flass continued dramatically but he might as well have been saying "Don't stay at Castle Dracula bad things happen to those who do!" for all the effect it was having.  
  
"He fired.Point blank range at the creature.and the bullet passed straight through it like it wasn't there."  
  
By now the snorts and giggles were coming from everywhere, and for a second Flass stopped cold shooting a glare of pure hatred at a helpless Lieutenant Gordon desperately fighting a losing battle to hold it all in.  
  
Flass continued his fairy tale ironically with the words "And then it started laughing, other members of the gang drew forth their guns."  
  
If anyone had been concentrating by then they would've challenged Flass on this point surely he had "single-handedly disarmed them"?  
  
"Something flew from the creatures hand. I remember noticing it had claws."  
  
The whole room was in uproar someone jeered "claws right."  
  
"It was little dart things," Flass blurted, "they paralysed the felons."  
  
"Little dart things," someone else mimicked.  
  
"But me he singled out!" Flass was almost hysterical now, Gordon tried to calm it down but it was too late, and the meeting dissolved into anarchy.  
  
All in all Harvey was glad he had been asked to sit in after all, it provided a welcome distraction from his own problems, as the days drew nearer to June the 12th Vasily Kosov was seldom far from his thoughts. 


	3. Chapter three

Chapter Three: "Of Bats And Men."  
  
June 6/7th  
  
The way Harvey heard it told, it all started with Gordon and Essen, they were driving downtown. Gordon was giving Essen a ride home but they hadn't gone far from the precinct when something happened that must've made Jim Gordon lose his concentration (Harvey had a pretty good idea what that might be!)  
  
Whatever it was Gordon then had to swerve to avoid an oncoming truck. In so doing both Gordon's vehicle and the truck almost collided with an oblivious bag lady. It was at this point that Gordon left Essen to take the wheel and dived onto the truck to try and take control from the driver (who was later booked for driving under the influence.)  
  
Whilst that was going on the Bat vigilante dropped from the sky and pushed the bag lady to safety. Gordon jerked the wheel steering the truck into a wall whereupon he blacked out momentarily. He awoke to find blood dripping from a large wound on his forehead and Essen with her gun trained on the Bat. But seeing as how things were between Gordon and Essen she relaxed her guard just long enough to glance over and assess Jim's health, and the Bat seized the opportunity to escape. Essen, unable to leave Gordon helped him to the car and called for back up.  
  
Commisioner Loeb for reasons best known to himself (and probably his friends the Falcone's) called in SWAT. Captain Branden and his men had orders to kill and pretty soon they had the Bat cornered in a derelict building near Robinson Park. As the building was scheduled for demolition anyway Loeb saw no reason to be gentle. He arranged for the SWAT chopper to drop a bomb on the roof, with complete disregard for the handful of vagrants for whom it was the closest thing to a home that they had.  
  
By the time Harvey and Wilson arrived as part of the deployment to manage the gathering crowd the building or most of it no longer stood and Branden and his thugs were making a sweep of what was left. Shots were fired from the basement; some broke the windows endangering the crowd. Harvey dived for cover as Officer Merkel was nicked in the shoulder; a grey stray cat scampering to safety was gathered up by a pretty bystander.  
  
Part of the building gave way and Batman and a handful of SWAT'S spilled out onto the street.  
  
From his vantage point on the ground Batman looked pretty rough to Harvey, he had taken bullets in both legs one of which had been bandaged by part of the cape. The belt was missing Harvey noted, and there was what looked like another Bullet wound above the right elbow. In spite of this Harvey was impressed to see the Bat draw himself to his full height and stare down one of the SWAT's. (A guy named Petit Harvey later found out.)  
  
Then Batman spoke, "You're the one, who tried to shoot the cat." His voice was like gravel, and with that his fists were all over Petit like a rash.  
  
The crowd were cheering as the dazed guys from SWAT stumbled into and over each other in their attempts to pursue the Bat. Then suddenly it all went dark and the screaming started again.  
  
******  
  
It was a swarm of Bats! They had come from nowhere. How the hell Batman had managed it Harvey couldn't even begin to guess. Under cover of the swarm Batman made good his escape on a police motorcycle.  
  
Harvey was up and running, not because he was scared of a fluttering bunch of mice with wings, but for fear of being trampled under a panic-stricken crowd of both officers and onlookers alike. Unable to see where he was going it wasn't long before he fell over again but realised he must be lying in the rubble of the derelict building.  
  
Sensing no one else around and that he was no longer at risk of being trampled Harvey lay still and waited for the chaos to die down. The Bats gradually trailed off following their master and Harvey and a few hundred others were left with multiple scratches and rodent bites. Harvey slowly got up but something in the rubble caught his eye, he raked his hands through the powder of crumbled masonry and pulled out the charred remains of a belt with pouches. Knowing full well he was tampering with evidence Harvey removed some vials from the one pouch that remained intact. Harvey had a hunch he knew what the vials contained he opened one to check. If he was right, then maybe, just maybe, he now had the edge required to deal with Vasily Kosov.  
  
*****  
  
Everyone in the crowd had to be vaccinated for bat bites, fortunately members of the GCPD were given priority and Harvey, having reached the end of his shift anyway, left Gotham General for a "serious soak and a coupla cold ones." He got as far as the parking lot when he saw a familiar figure flanked by a couple of thugs waiting by his ride.  
  
"Hello Vasily," Bullock acknowledged.  
  
"Hello my friend, I hope you haven't forgotten our little arrangement."  
  
Bullock confirmed that he hadn't and went through the arrangements again verbatim.  
  
"I hope that what you say is true," Kosov replied a cruel smile playing on his lips, "it would be a shame if a newly qualified Sergeant were to meet with an unfortunate accident."  
  
"I wouldn't want that Vasily!" Harvey acknowledged.  
  
"Ees good to hear! See you around comrade!" Comrade was pronounced dripping with sarcasm, Kosov moved off without a second glance over to his Merc and skidded off.  
  
"Hey Bullock!"  
  
Oh great thought Harv, turning to face his second unwelcome meeting of the night.  
  
Arnold Flass just out of bandages.  
  
"Interesting company you keep there!"  
  
"Really? Well if you know what's good for you Flass I wouldn't think to hard about it!"  
  
"Oh I never do, but it sure would be a shame if this all came to light before your official promotion to Sargent!" Flass smiled.  
  
"Yeah," Harvey acknowledged as he moved across the lot to where Flass was standing. "And it would also be a shame if it came to light exactly what it was you really were doing at the Docks that night I saved your ass!"  
  
There was an inch of air between them as they went eyeball to eyeball. "I know all about your little pension plan with Skeevers Flass, but I got a little newsflash for you I don't really care that much about it! But if you want I could start to develop concerns real quick!" Harvey paused to let that sink in. "You got your interests I got mine, why don't we just leave it at that?"  
  
Flass looked at him long and hard then broke into a smile, "Hey easy big guy," he took a step back and held out his hand, "Your okay big man! Just yanking your chain that's all!"  
  
Harvey shook the offered hand loosely, as if he had been asked to pet a snake.  
  
"See you around Sergeant Bullock!"  
  
Harvey smiled to himself, it wouldn't hurt for it to get round that he was in the Odessa mob's pocket, not that it would matter much after the twelfth. After all if the worse came to the worse he wouldn't be around anymore to worry about it. 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: "Crispy Toes Bulloski"  
  
The clock at Harvey's bedside ticked past the midnight hour ushering in the dreaded date with destiny, June the 12th.  
  
"Crunch time" Harvey thought to himself, his stomach feeling sick.  
  
Having finished making preparations in the bathroom and having relieved all his bodily functions for what would be the last time in a while, perhaps forever. Harvey unscrewed the light bulb from his bedroom ceiling and placed it in the bedside lamp he kept by the clock. It cast a very dim light.  
  
It would have to do.  
  
He then picked up the handcuffs from the bed and promptly cuffed himself to the large heavy four-poster that dominated the room. He smiled to himself; this was not quite the situation in which he had ever envisioned doing this. Making himself comfortable he settled down to wait for Kosov's thugs.  
  
They eventually came at around seven am, just as Harvey was finally drifting off to sleep. The heavy pounding at the door sounded to him like a distant thunderstorm.  
  
The lock gave way as Harvey's swimming head began to surface above conscious level.  
  
"Come in its open!" He muttered.  
  
Two thugs stood before him both shaven headed and dressed in black, one carrying what looked like a suitcase. Harvey thought he might have seen them around Kosov before.  
  
"You are Harvey Bulloski?" The one without the suitcase barked in a thick Eastern European accent.  
  
"Close enough," Harvey acknowledged trying not to look as scared as he felt.  
  
"We are finding your car empty in Munch Rouw!"  
  
Well that's strange cos I left it in Moench Row! Harvey wanted to say but instead it came out "Well that was where you told me to leave it!" with feigned outrage.  
  
"Ja," the one with the suitcase acknowledged, "but it is being empty, there is no gun, no uniform, no badge!"  
  
Now came the hardest part Bullock thought. "THERE'S NO WAY YOU LOUSY RUSKIE'S ARE GETTING MY GUN!" He shouted at the top of his lungs which earned him a swift sock on the jaw from suitcase. He heard draws being emptied, cupboards slammed and other general sounds of his furniture being rearranged but he doubted it had anything to do with décor.  
  
There was a moment's silence.  
  
"Alright you freagin baskervitch!" Harvey was still too stunned to know which one of them had said this, but they both sounded alike to him anyway.  
  
"Soon you be telling us where every leetle thing is but first we be going for leetle drive!" It was then after attempting to pull Harvey out of bed that they noticed the handcuffs.  
  
"Word of advice boys," Harvey grinned, "never date a cop, they pull all kinda stunts on you." If only that were true! He thought to himself.  
  
The thugs were shouting at each other waving their arms in the air and probably cursing for all Harvey knew in their native tongue. They even tried to lift the bed between them a pretty heavy item in itself, but with Bullocks weight thrown in this would've been impossible for four Russian mooks let alone two. Besides one of them realised they would never get the four-poster out through the bedroom door. Harvey smiled to himself so far so good! Besides the image of the thugs actually succeeding in dragging him and the four-poster down three flights of stairs and out on the street only to realise they couldn't fit him in the car was too much! Harvey began to chuckle to himself.  
  
"Oh you think you being a clever amerikanski baskervitch!" Suitcase rounded on him, "But we be seeing soon who is clever, and who is being very very hurt!"  
  
Harvey suddenly found himself wondering what was in the suitcase. He had gambled on the fact that they would come under prepared with the intention of taking him away somewhere, probably the docks to make him talk, before.Harvey didn't want to think of what came next. The Department was rife with rumours on the amount of corpses at the bottom of Gotham harbour all decked out in concrete boots.  
  
He dropped the suitcase with a hollow thud. It was empty. Of course! They brought it was to pack his uniform, badge, and gun in so as to appear inconspicuous.  
  
Suitcase now with both hands free decided to use them in earnest. Harvey braced himself for the forthcoming pain.  
  
PUNCH! A right hook! "WHERE?" SLAP! A left hand to left cheek stinger! "IS?" SLAP! This time right hand to right cheek! "THE" CRACK! A left uppercut! "UNIFORM?"  
  
Anymore and Harvey knew he was going to black out, his head was buzzing with a thousand angry bees.  
  
A distant voice enquired, "Where is the gun? Where is the badge?"  
  
Another sharp slap but Harvey was too dazed to know or care which way it came or where it landed, his face was just one big stinging pain now.  
  
SPLASH! Cold water all over his face the coolness instilling a seconds respite then the stinging, throbbing, pain back again! He knew he had blacked out, but for how long. One of them was holding his head up.  
  
"Open your eyes Amerikanski!"  
  
Harvey drowsily complied; suitcase was sitting on the bed in front of him with a cigarette lighter, naked flame exposed!  
  
With a rush of fear Harvey thought he was about to have his eyes burnt out and pulled back!  
  
Suitcase and the guy standing behind him began to laugh; suitcase relaxed his thumb on the strike and the flame died.  
  
"My friend forgot to bring blowtorch!" He said by way of explanation.  
  
Harvey had banked everything on this. Hoping they would prefer to carry this out at the docks. With the torch they could've cut the cuffs took him for a ride, and then game over.  
  
"So," said the other one, "we improvise!"  
  
Here it comes Harvey thought.  
  
"This reminds me of children's rhyme!" Said suitcase standing up and walking to the foot of the bed. The flame was on again as suitcase grabbed Harvey's right foot. "Do you know it?" He asked coldly a cruel smile playing on his lips as Harvey struggled. But the other now had his leg around the knee.  
  
Harvey felt the flame licking at his toes as suitcase began to recite, "This little piggy went to market." Harvey screamed drowning out the rest they threw his foot on the bed and waited patiently for him to stop.  
  
"One last chance Bulloski!" Suitcase pronounced very slowly as if to a small child, "where is hiding your uniform, your badge, and your gun?"  
  
Harvey glancing at his bedside clock realised that at nearly eight fifteen he had held out longer than he thought he could. What the hell? He thought to himself just a little longer wouldn't kill him; well at least he hoped it wouldn't.  
  
"Go to hell Ivan!" Bullock sneered, and then for his neighbours benefit "I AIN'T GIVING YOU SQUAT!"  
  
The burn was longer this time and so was Harvey's scream.  
  
"Okay Okay!" Harvey said finally, "It's in a locker at the station!"  
  
"The Police station?" Said suitcase, this was not what he wanted to hear.  
  
Harvey shook his head, "Rail station, locker keys in my coat."  
  
There was more talk in Russian whilst the other one frisked Harvey's coat, he found the locker key and suitcase turned back to Harvey.  
  
"Okay Bulloski we go check locker! If we are not finding what it is that we be looking for, we be coming back, this time we bring tools we cut your bed to pieces, we take you for ride and then we cut you!"  
  
They headed for the door and Harvey noted with satisfaction it was just shy of eight thirty. The security for the parade was meant to be in place by nine.  
  
"Oh and one more thing!" Suitcase had paused by the door and now retraced his steps to the bed and grabbed Harvey by the collar, "My name is not Ivan!" Harvey yelped as he felt a knee squeeze his groin. "Amerikanski Swine," Suitcase spat on his face and left.  
  
Harvey fell back on the bed breathing out a sigh of relief. He looked down at his right foot and laughed; in the dim light he could see there wasn't a mark on it. Thank god the bat had carried water gel! And thank god that Harvey was enough of a movie buff to recognise the stuff that stuntmen used to protect themselves from burns. It had worked a treat, he hadn't felt a thing! Although the same could not be said for his face.  
  
Shame about the bruises, Harvey thought, but they too were necessary for authenticity.  
  
"Mr Bullock!"  
  
It was Nivens the landlord right on cue. "I must strongly object to the noise from this room at this unsociable." Nivens gasped and broke off as he saw both Bullocks face and the cuffs.  
  
"Nivens" Bullock groaned with fake pain, "call the cops I need to speak to the Commissioner, it's a matter of life and death."  
  
*****  
  
The headline in the Sunday edition of the Gotham Globe read "Half Dead Cop Saves King."  
  
*****  
One Week Later.  
  
After King Khanaquin draped the medal around Sergeant HarveyBullock's neck, Commissioner Loeb shook Harvey's hand and said, "Congratulations, Sergeant Bullock, you're a credit to us all. Tell me how do you like the sound of 'Lieutenant Bullock?"  
  
Harvey smiled. "I don't know, Commish," he said, "is there a test?"  
  
THE END 


	5. Appendix

Appendix  
  
Chapter One :  
  
Tony "The Roman" Falcone, The Falcone's are the most powerful of Gotham's Italian mafia families. In Year One, book two, Falcone, and Commisioner Loeb are seen dining together at a soiree held by the Mayor and the conversation shows clearly that they run things in Gotham together. Batman crashes the party warning them that, "From this moment on none of you are safe." Batman keeps up a terror campaign on Falcone who later meets his demise in Jeph Loeb's "The Long Halloween."  
  
Lieutenant James Gordon at this point in his career has recently been transferred from the Chicago PD following some kind of bribe scandal. He is determined a make a fresh start with a clean slate.  
  
Harvey Dent of course at this point is Gotham's crusading district attorney prior to the cruel attack by Boss Maroni, which led to the emergence of Harvey's "Two-Face" persona. At this point Dent has had to drop conspiracy charges against Commisioner Loeb due to the disappearance of his key witness. So clearly not a popular man around the GCPD.  
  
Detective Flass was initially assigned as Lieutenant James Gordon's partner. Flass is a dirty cop, and close to Commisioner Loeb. Observing Gordon refusing to take a bribe he complains to the Commisioner that "Gordon is just not fitting in," and asks that he and the boys be allowed to "Soften Gordon up a little." Loeb agrees to let Flass handle it whilst he's out of town.  
  
They attack Gordon on his way to a night shift. "They do enough damage just to keep me out of hospital," Gordon observes. A battered and bruised Gordon lies in wait for the now off duty Flass who's playing cards with the boys. Gordon takes Flass out one on one and leaves him cuffed by the roadside.  
  
Vasily Kosov the head of the Little Odessa mob is pretty minor in comparison to The Falcone crime empire, he only really rose in prominence as the head of The Russian crime family following events in "No Man's Land." Kosov recently died at the hands of Whisper Adaire in a plot engineered by Ra's Al Ghul.  
  
Although the question of why Kosov wants Khanaquin dead is not clearly addressed in the narrative (my fault) it is because Kosov is arranging the assassination for Ra's Al Ghul, who has a century long grudge against this family.  
  
King Khanaquin of Qurac is my invention. Qurac was once ruled by the militant dictator President Marlo (who bears a striking resemblance to a certain middle eastern despot who allegedly DOESN'T have any chemical or biological weapons.) I figured that being an evil dictator Marlo must've usurped his power from someone so I invented the exiled king.  
  
Eventually Marlo was captured by Superman and Qurac was nuked by the global terrorist Cheshire.  
  
Believe it or not most DC comics writers work from an official map of Gotham City from which all the street names and directions used in the story are taken from.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
The first scene depicts the early signs of attraction between Gordon and Essen. Some weeks following the events covered in this story they embark on an affair, which ends when Loeb tries to blackmail Gordon by threatening to reveal the affair to his wife Barbara. Gordon tells Barbara the truth and Essen puts in for a transfer.  
  
The briefing scene is lifted directly from Year One I've just added description to the original dialogue and made Bullock one of the crowd.  
  
Flass was not apprehending the villains he was taking a cut from the profits of the deal, which is why Batman singled him out for rough treatment.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Begins with a synopsis of events in Year One and again I've just inserted Harvey into the situation at Robinson Park.  
  
In order to suit storytelling purposes I made a slight alteration by having Batman's confrontation with "The Cat Shooter" occur on the street in public. In Millers original the "you were the one who tried to shoot the cat" incident happened inside the derelict building then the fight spilt out onto the street after part of that building collapsed.  
  
The woman who picks up the cat is Selena Kyle.  
  
Billy Petit was the trigger-happy SWAT leader during DC's recent "No Man's Land" saga I thought by making him the cat shooter (who is unnamed in Year One) that this glimpse of him at an earlier stage in his career might go some way to suggesting a personal reason for his distrust of Batman during "No Man's Land."  
  
Batman summoned the Bats by switching on an ultrasonic tone that only they can hear. A gadget he keeps in the heel of his boot.  
  
During the fire in the building thermite in Batman's utility belt caught fire forcing him to discard it, so logically anything non-flammable in the belt would've survived intact.  
  
As per Frank Miller everyone had to be vaccinated for Bat bites.  
  
Skeevers is a drug dealer with whom Flass has an arrangement, related to the drug deal in Chapter Two. Eventually Batman scares Skeevers into plea bargaining with Harvey Dent in order to give up Flass who spends the next decade behind bars only to show up and attempt to exact revenge on Gordon and Essen. Currently his body is missing presumably drowned at sea.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
I make no apologies for the terrible Russian accents, this is a tip of the hat to Chuck Dixon who writes the KGBeest's dialogue in a similar vain, but much funnier than me!  
  
Harvey had coated his feet with the watergel.  
  
Nivens featured in "A Bullet For Bullock" both the comic and animated version as Harvey's long suffering landlord. 


End file.
